Milton Babbitt
“Who Cares if You Listen?” (1958)
(originally titled “The Composer As Specialist”)Henry
Brant
and motions of performers and audience, and the decor and lighting of the
hall —that are irrelevant to the actual communication of the music in terms
of its sound. Totally invisible spatial music, in the theater, would leave the
visual senses free to concentrate on visual material planned for its dramatic
expressiveness, which theatrical, technique can accomplish with complete
and varied control .
Conclusions
Questions of melody, harmony and counterpoint are not initially
decided, for the practicing musician, by the acoustician, the anatomist oF
the psychologist. Textbooks written by musicians are not scientific studies;
at best they describe a working knowhow based on everyday practice,
which has to take into account many inconsistencies and vagaries, both
human and mechanical. Wherever musical phenomena can be demon-
strated with sufficient consistency and stability, the musicians’ findings will
of course be supportable and explainable in acoustical, anatomical, and
psychological terms.
In most cases, a working procedure useful to the musician is first dis-
covered and retried in practical, do-it-yourself experiments—it may then,
in some instances, be verified scientifically. This is also true of the space
factor, of which investigation, expressive use, and control are still in the
beginning stages.
Except for the brief discussion of outdoor possibilities, nothing in the
foregoing has progressed beyond an essentially rectangular view of musical
space. More importantly, this view is limited to a one-room conception of
musical space—even the most elaborate and complex events in Western
musical culture still take place in single, four-walled, all-enclosed halls.
Why need we stop here? What might be the next steps? In the not too dis-
tant future | hope to describe some promising lines of procedure, and
their practical working out, in terms of new music in new spaces,
242
Milton
Babbitt
[1916 -
In addition to being Protessor of Music at Princeton University and a
director of the Columbia-Princeton Electronic Music Center, Milton
Babbitt is @ professional mathematician. He bas, in fact, taught math:
tematics as well as music at Princeton. It is understandable, therefore.
that Babbitt brings to music a scholarly, analytic, relentlessly probing
atuitude such as one would normally associate with pure research in
In his own music, which exerts great influence ypon younger com:
posers, he has set out to explore the possibilities inperent in the seviali-
zation of dynamics, timbres, and the temporal elements of rhytho
pulse, and duration that is, the extension of Webern's technique of
pitch organization to dimensions other than pitch. This mathematically
precise control over all the variables in the musical fabric is a goal more
attainable, perhaps, through electronic composition than the intermedi-
ary of fallible human performers; Babbitt bas, in fact, become increas
ingly active in the area of electronic music
His esthetic approach and conception of the composer’ role Further
demonstrate his scientific orientation. In the essay reprinted here, Babbitt
rejects the popular notion that the composer must necessarily commu:
nicate with the layman. On the contrary, the composer's frst obligation
is to his art, to the evolution of music and the advancement of new
‘musical concepts. Advanced musical concepts, furlhermore, are no
‘more intended for the average man than advanced theories of asrophys
ies. In advancing this thesis, Babbitt and the younger composers stimu:
lated by his work propose an objectivity allied with that of Stravinsky,
and far removed from the Romantic expressionism of Schoenberg or the
Gebrauchmusik of Hindemith,
“Who Cares if You Listen?,” from High Fidelity, VW2 (February, 1958),
38-40, 126-27.
243Who Cares
if You Listen?
This article might have been entitled “The Composer as Specialist” or,
alternatively, and pethaps less contentiously, “The Composer as Anachro-
hsm.” For || am concerned with stating an attitude towards the indisputa-
ble facts of the status and condition of the composer of what we will, for
the moment, designate as “serious,”” “advanced,” contemporary music.
This composer expends an enormous amount of time and energy—and,
usually, considerable money—on the creation of a commodity which has
little, no, oF negative commodity value, He is, in essence, a “vanity”
composer. The general public is largely unaware of and uninterested in his
Imusic. The majority of performers shun it and resent it. Consequently, the
music is litle performed, and then primarily at poorly attended concerts,
before an audience consisting in the main of fellow professionals. At best,
the music would appear to be for, of, and by specialists,
Towards this condition of musical and societal “isolation,” a variety of
attitudes has been expressed, usually with the purpose of assigning blame,
Often to the music itself, occasionally to critics or performers, and very
‘occasionally to the public. But to assign blame is to imply that this isola
tion is unnecessary and undesirable. It is my contention that, on the con
trary, this condition is not only inevitable, but potentially advantageous for
the composer and his music. From my point of view, the composer would
do well to consider means of realizing, consolidating, and extending the
advantages
The unprecedented divergence between contemporary serious music
and its listeners, on the one hand, and traditional music and its following,
‘on the other, is not accidental and—most probably — not transitory. Rather,
itis a result of a half-century of revolution in musical thought, a revolution
‘whose nature and consequences can be compared only with, and in many
respects are closely analogous to, those of the mid-nineteenth-century
revolution in theoretical physics. The immediate and profound effect has
been the necessity for the informed musician to reexamine and probe the
very foundations of his art. He has been obliged to recognize the possibil
ity, and actuality, of alternatives to what were once regarded as musical
absolutes. He lives no longer in a unitary musical universe of “common
practice,” but in a variety of universes of diverse practice.
This fall from musical innocence is, understandably, as disquieting 10
248
Who Cares
if You Listent
some as it is challenging to others, but in any event the process is irrevers-
ible; and the music that reflects the full impact of this revolution is, in
many significant respects, a truly “new” music. Apart from the often highly
sophisticated and complex constructive methods of any one composition,
(or group of compositions, the very minimal properties characterizing this
body of music are the sources of its “difficulty,” “unintelligibility,” and
isolation. In indicating the most general of these properties, | shall make
reference to no specific works, since | wish to avoid the independent issue
of evaluation. The reader is at liberty to supply his own instances; if he
cannot (and, granted the condition under discussion, this is a very real
possibility), let him be assured that such music does exist,
First. This music employs a tonal vocabulary which is more “efficient’”
thin that of the music of the past, or its derivatives. This is not necessarily a
virtue in itself, but it does make possible a greatly increased number of
pitch simultaneities, successions, and relationships. This increase in eff
ciency necessarily reduces the “redundancy” of the language, and as a
result the intelligible communication of the work demands. increased
accuracy from the transmitter (the performer) and activity from the receiver
(the listener) Incidentally, itis this circumstance, among many others, that
has created the need for purely electronic media of “performance.” More
importantly for us, t makes ever heavier demands upon the training of the
listener's perceptual capacities,
Second, Along with this increase of meaningful pitch materials, the
umber of functions associated with each component of the musical event
also has been multiplied. In the simplest possible terms, each such
"atomic”” event is located in a five-dimensional musical space determined
by pitch-class, register, dynamic, duration, and timbre. These five compo-
nents not only together define the single event, but, in the course of a
work, the successive values of each component create an individually
coherent structure, frequently in parallel with the corresponding structures
created by each of the other components. inability to perceive and remem-
ber precisely the values of any of these components results in a dislocation
of the event in the work's musical space, an alternation of its relation to all
other events in the work, and~thus—a falsification of the composition’s
total structure. For example, an incorrectly performed or perceived dy-
namic value results in destruction of the work's dynamic pattern, but also
in false identification of other components of the event (of which this
dynamic value is a part) with corresponding components of other events,
50 creating incorrect pitch, registra, timbral, and durational associations, It
is this high degree of “determinancy” that most strikingly differentiates such
music from, for example, a popular song. A popular song is only very
245Milton
Babbitt
partially determined, since it would appear to retain its germane charac:
feristice under considerable alteration of register, rhythmic texture, dynam-
ics, harmonic structure, timbre, and other qualities
‘The preliminary differentiation of musical categories by means of this
reasonable and usable criterion of “degree of determinacy” offends those
‘Sho take it to be a definition of qualitative categories, which— of
eourse.-it need not always be. Curiously, their demurrers usually take the
familiar form of some such “democratic” counterdefinition as: “There is
no such thing as ‘serious’ and ‘popular’ music.” There is only ‘good’ and
"bod music.” As a public service, let me offer those who still patiently
‘await the revelation of the criteria of Absolute Good an alternative criterion
uhich possesses, at least, the virtue of immediate and irrefutable applica-
bility: “There is no such thing as ‘serious’ and ‘popular’ music. There is
sly. music whose tile begins with the letter 'X.’ and music whose title
does not”
“Third. Musical compositions af the kind under discussion possess a
high degree of contextuality and autonomy. That is, the structural charac-
tenisice of a given work are less representative of a general class of char-
teristics than they are unique to the individual work itself, Particularly,
principles of relatedness, upon whiclr depends immediate coherence of
eontinuity, are more likely to evolve in the course of the work than to be
Gerived from generalized assumptions. Here again greater and new de-
mands are made upon the perceptual and conceptual abilities of the
listener.
Fourth, and finally. Although in many fundamental respects this music
is “new,” it often also represents a vast extension of the methods of other
rusies, derived from a considered and extensive knowledge of their
Gynamic. principles. For, concomitant with the “revolution in music,"
perhaps even an integral aspect thereof, has been the development of
ralytical theory, concerned with the systematic formulation ‘of such
principles to the end of greater efficiency, economy, and understanding,
Compositions so rooted necessarily ask comparable knowledge and expe-
Hones from the listener. Like all communication, this music presupposes 2
suitably equipped receptor. | am aware that “tradition’” has it that the lay
Tietener, by virtue of some undefined, transcendental faculty, always is able
to arrive at a musical judgment absolute in its wisdom if not always per-
anent in its validity. | regret my inability to accord this declaration of
faith the respect due its advanced age
Deviation from this tradition is bound to dismiss the contemporary
music of which | have been talking into “isolation.” Nor do | see how of
hy the situation should be otherwise. Why should the layman be other
than bored and puzzled by what he is unable to understand, music or
246
anything else? It is only the translation of this boredom and puzzlement
into resentment and denunciation that seems to me indefensible. After all,
the public does have its own music, its ubiquitous music: music to eat by,
to read by, to dance by, and to be impressed by. Why refuse to recognize
the possibility that contemporary music has reached a stage long since
attained by other forms of activity? The time has passed when the normally
‘well-educated man without special preparation could understand the most
advanced work in, for example, mathematics, philosophy, and physics.
‘Advanced music, to the extent that it reflects the knowledge and originality
fof the informed composer, scarcely can be expected to appear more
intelligible than these arts’ and sciences to the person whose musical
education usually has been even less extensive than his background in
ther fields. But to this, a double standard is invoked, with the words
"music is music,” implying also that “music is just music.” Why not, then,
‘equate the activities of the radio repairman with those of the theoretical
physicist, on the basis of the dictum that “physics is physics"? It is not
ifficult to find statements like the following, from the New York Times of
September 8, 1957: "The scientific level of the conference is so
high . . . that there are in the world only 120 mathematicians special-
iin the field who could contribute.” Specialized music on the other
hand, far from signifying “height” of musical level, has been charged with
“"decadence,’” even as evidence of an insidious “conspiracy.”
often has been remarked that only in politics and the “arts” does the
layman regard himself as an expert, with the right to have his opinion
heard. In the realm of politics he knows that this right, in the form of a
vote, is guaranteed by fiat. Comparably, in the realm of public music, the
concerigoer is secure in the knowledge that the amenities of concert going
protect his firmly stated “I didn’t like it” from further scrutiny. Imagine, if
you can, a layman chancing upon a lecture on “Pointwise Periodic
Homeomorphisms.” At the conclusion, he announces: "I didn’t like it.”
Social conventions being what they are in such circles, someone might
dare inquire: “Why not?” Under duress, our layman discloses precise
reasons for his failure to enjoy himself; he found the hall chilly, the lec
turer's voice unpleasant, and he was suffering the digestive aftermath of a
poor dinner. His interlocutor understandably disqualifies these reasons as
irrelevant to the content and value of the lecture, and the development of
‘mathematics is left undisturbed. If the concertgoer is at all versed in the
ways of musical lifesmanship, he also will offer reasons for his “I didn’t
Tike it”—in the form of assertions that the work in question is ““inexpres-
sive,” “undramatic,” “lacking in poetry,” etc., etc., tapping that store of
vacuous equivalents hallowed by time for: “t don't like it, and | cannot or
will not state why.” The concertgoers critical authority is established
247Milton
Babbitt
beyond the possibilty of further inquiry. Certainly he is not responsible for
the circumstance that musical discourse is a never-never land of semantic
confusion, the last resting place of all those verbal and formal fallacies,
those hoary dualisms that have been banished from rational discourse.
Pethaps he has read, in a widely,consulted and respected book on the
history of music, the following: “to call him (Tchaikovsky) the ‘modern
Russian Beethoven’ is footless, Beethoven being patently neither modern
nor Russian, . ..” Or, the following, by an eminent “nonanalytic”” phi-
losopher: “The music of Lourié is an ontological music. . . . It is born in
the singular roots of being, the nearest possible juncture of the soul and the
spirit. . . ." How unexceptionable the verbal peccadilloes of the average
Concertgoer appear beside these masterful models. Or, perhaps, in search
of “real” authority, he has acquired his critical vocabulary from the pro-
ouncements of officially “eminent” composers, whose eminence, in turn,
js founded largely upon just such assertions as the concertgoer has learned
to regurgitate. This cycle is of slight moment in a world where circularity is
one of the norms of criticism. Composers (and performers), wittingly or
‘unwittingly assuming the character of “talented children” and “inspired
idiots” generally ascribed to them, are singularly adept at the conversion of
personal tastes into general principles. Music they do not like is “not
music,” composers whose music they do not like are “not composers.”
In search of what to think and how to say it, the layman may turn to
newspapers and magazines. Here he finds conclusive evidence for the
proposition that “music is music.” The science editor of such publications
contents himself with straightforward reporting, usually news of the “fac-
tual” sciences; books and articles not intended for popular consumption
are not reviewed, Whatever the reason, such matters are left to professional
journals. The music critic admits no comparable differentiation, He may
feel, with some justice, that music which presents itself in the market place
of the concert hall automatically offers itself t public approval or disap-
proval. He may feel, again with some justice, that to omit the expected
Gticism of the “advanced” work would be to do the composer an injus-
tice in his assumed quest for, if nothing else, public notice and “profes-
sional recognition.” The critic, at least to this extent, is himself a victim of
the leveling of categories.
Here, then, are some of the factors determining the climate of the
public world of music. Perhaps we should not have overlooked those
pockets of “power” where prizes, awards, and commissions are dispensed,
where music is adjudged guilty, not only without the right to be confronted
by its accuser, but without the right to be confronted by the accusations.
Or those well-meaning souls who exhort the public “just to listen to more
contemporary music,” apparently on the theory that familiarity breeds
248,
Who Cares
iF You tisten?
passive acceptance, Or those, often the same well-meaning souls, who
femind the composer of his “obligation to the public,” while the public's
‘obligation to the composer is fulfilled, manifestly, by mere physical pres-
tence in the concert hall or before a loudspeaker or—more authoritatively
by committing to memory the numbers of phonograph records and
amplifier models. Or the intricate social world within this musical world,
Where the salon becomes bazaar, and music itself becomes an ingredient
of verbal canapés for cocktail conversation.
I say all this not to present a picture of a virtuous music in a sinful
world, but to point up the problems of a special music in an alien and
inapposite world. And so, | dare suggest that the composer would do
himself and his music an immediate and eventual service by total, resolute,
and voluntary withdrawal from this public world to one of private perform
ance and electronic media, with its very real possibility of complete elimi-
nation of the public and social aspects of musical composition. By so
doing, the separation between the domains would be defined beyond any
possibility of confusion of categories, and the composer would be free to
pursue a private life of professional achievement, as opposed to a public
life of unprofessional compromise and exhibitionism.
But how, it may be asked, will this serve to secure the means of survival
for the composer and his music? One answer is that afterall such a private
life is what the university provides the scholar and the scientist. It is only
proper that the university, which—significantly—has provided so many
contemporary composers with their professional training and general
‘education, should provide a home for the “complex,” “difficult,” and
“problematical” in music. Indeed, the process has begun; and if it appears
to proceed 100 slowly, | take consolation in the knowledge that in this
respect, 100, music seems to be in historically retarded parallel with now
sacrosanct fields of endeavor. In E. T. Bell’s Men of Mathematics, we read:
“In the eighteenth century the universities were not the principal centers of
research in Europe. They might have become such sooner than they did
but for the classical tradition and its understandable hostility to science.
Mathematics was close enough to antiquity to be respectable, but physics,
being more recent, was suspect. Further, a mathematician in a university of
the time would have been expected to put much of is effort on elemen-
tary teaching; his research, if any, would have been an unprofitable lux-
ury. . . ” A simple substitution of “musical composition” for “research,”
of “academic” for “classical,” of “music” for “physics,” and of “com-
poser” for “mathematician,” provides a strikingly accurate picture of the
Current situation, And as long.as the confusion | have described continues
to exist, how can the university and its community assume other than that
the composer welcomes and courts public competition with the histori-
249Milton
Babbitt,
cally certified products of the past, and the commercially certified products
of the present?
Perhaps {or the same reason, the various institutes of advanced research
and the large majority of foundations have disregarded this music’s need
for means of survival. | do not wish to appear to obscure the obvious
differences between musical composition and scholarly research, although
it can be contended that these differences are no more fundamental than
the differences among the various fields of study. | do question whether
these differences, by their nature, justify the denial to music’s development
of assistance granted these other fields, Immediate “practical” applicability
(which may be said to have its musical analogue in “immediate extensi-
bility of a compositional technique") is certainly not a necessary condition
for the support of scientific research. And if it be contended that such
research is so supported because in the past it has yielded eventual applica.
tions, one can counter with, for example, the music of Anton Webern,
which during the composer's lifetime was regarded (to the very limited
extent that it was regarded at all) as the ultimate in hermetic, specialized,
and idiosyncratic composition; today, some dozen years after the com-
poser’s death, his complete works have been recorded by a major record
company, primarily ~1 suspect—as a result of the enormous influence this
music has had on the postwar, nanpopular, musical world. | doubt that
scientific research is any more secure against predictions of ultimate
significance than is musical composition. Finally, if it be contended that
research, even in its least “practical’” phases, contributes to the sum of
knowledge in the particular realm, what possibly can contribute more to
our knowledge of music than a genuinely original composition?
Sranting to music the position accorded other arts and sciences prom-
ises the sole substantial means of survival for the music | have been de-
scribing. Admittedly, if this music is not supported, the whistling repertory
of the man in the street will be litle affected, the concert-going activity of
the conspicuous consumer of musical culture will be little disturbed. But
music will cease to evolve, and, in that important sense, will cease to live
250
Otto
Luening
[ 1900 - ]
In the couse of his own career as 2 composer, and in the development
OF his musical syle, to Luening represes most vite cntnuty
Crnervng the sical changes of the pst fly years. A student of
Buson, tuening absorbed rom is teacher both the rigorous ral of
neo casic technique and the experimental Bet that sought Hoeate
seis a the fests of conven sale and insrment
itening. tus represents both the conservative. and the revolton-
any tendencls of contemporary music, and has fused the tin his
‘own work
‘Alter many years of composing music for conventional instrunvental
forces (songs, chamber music, symphonic and operatic
Contemporary American Composers
Being a Study of the Music of This Country, Its Present
Conditions and Its Future, with Critical Estimates and
Biographies of the Principal Living Composers; and an
Abundance of Portraits, Fac-simile Musical Autographs, and
Compositions